Masochistic Me
The Unmitigated Bliss of Sharing the Road with Egomaniacs, Slowpokes, and Boneheads
It must be a form of masochism, but I absolutely love it when my patience is tested to the limit, or I get frustrated, or I become irritated, but especially when I get my jaws tight (become angry). What joy unspeakable! I am delighted when something causes me to feel these winsome emotions. It’s exciting, invigorating, and makes life worth living! Viva la exasperation, annoyance, and vexation!
And so, I am thrilled to pieces when the following things are inflicted bestowed on me when out on the road driving:
An approaching motorist waits until just before they turn to signal their intention to do so — or even better yet, they wait until they are actually turning before they activate their turn signal. This makes me so cheerful I sometimes feel I am about to bust a gut out of sheer exuberance. After all, if they were to signal their intention to turn well in advance, that would sort of force me to go ahead and proceed on my way, and I would miss out on the utter bliss of watching them delay their turn-signaling until it’s already plainly obvious that they are, indeed, turning.
The vehicles in front of me at a light wait for eons to proceed after the light turns green. To see the light go from red to green while hundreds of yards away, take my foot off the gas so as to coast up to the line of cars, and then have to stop and wait for each driver to pause for several hours before inching forward ever so slowly is the ultimate in ecstatic nirvana. I love the thought of those motorists being able to take a nice nap while waiting for the changing of the light and then waking up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (but still apparently a bit groggy). I use this free time to speculate on the reasons for their slothful response to the light. Are they on drugs? Do they suffer from some debilitating mental aberration? Are they perhaps vigorously debating with themselves over whether to have a hamburger, a taco, or a chicken leg for lunch? Who knows, but the possibilities are endless and so delightful to contemplate.
My body shivers with glee when the following happens (has it ever happened to you? If so, count your blessings and be thankful for the feeling of utter contentment that it conveys): You’re on the highway coming up on an on ramp with a vehicle traveling on it about to enter the highway and, because of traffic to your left not allowing you to move over to make way for the merging vehicle, you have to either speed way up or slow way down in order to avoid colliding with said vehicle. So, you slow down to let them in, and they intrude themselves into the flow of traffic at about 25% the speed of the existing traffic, rather than joining the ranks of travelers at their proximate speed. This wonderful maneuver on their part allows you to enjoy the firm feel of your foot on the brakes, and even better yet, the startling appearance of the car behind you getting suddenly larger and larger in your rear-view mirror — it’s exhilarating in the extreme! Imagine if the merging driver were to simply, boringly, inject themselves into the vehicular mix in a non-dramatic fashion. How dull life would be then!
A similar-but-sort-of-opposite situation is when you are the one attempting to merge onto the highway, and the person hogging the lane you want to merge onto continues at a pace that will result in a collision, even though there’s room on his left to move over and give you free access. They could speed up and make room for you, but they don’t. They could slow down and make room for you, but they don’t. And again, they could move over to the next lane to their left, but they don’t. It’s so special when they leave us in a position where we either crash into a road sign (thus rumpling our clothing and mussing up our hairdo) or have to stop at the end of the on ramp and wait until there’s a lull in the traffic in order to proceed. What would life be without the clueless, the selfish, the knuckleheads, the nuts behind the wheel, the megalomaniacs, and those who are simply thoughtless? It would be more pleasant, and that would be a disaster for someone like me who revels in agony and heartache.
These are my pet peeves when out motoring. You can tell I really enjoy them because I refer to them as “pets.” After all, if they were something negative, I would call them enemy, foe, adversary, opponent, rival, or nemesis peeves. Maybe even “jive tom turkey peeves.” But no, they are my pets. I coddle them and would like to cuddle with them. How I long to experience these pets again and again, wallowing in delight as these gratifying surprises spring up all around me, seemingly out of nowhere.
So I must convey my appreciation, from the heart of my bottom as they say, for those who make my life so much more pleasant by their numbskull antics behind the wheel and their atrociously horrendous driving skills, which transport me into a giddy frenzy of unspeakable joy.
It has been said (and it is logical, you will doubtless agree) that you can tell an artist’s personality by their work. Musicians, for example, “play their personality.” Ted Nugent would never play like Kenny G, or vice versa.
I submit for inspection and examination that you also drive your personality. How you drive puts on display what kind of person you are. So please, motorists everywhere, when you see me coming, get in touch with your inner egomaniac; act out your selfish lout persona; drive as if you’re the only person on the road; don’t think about other drivers, just disregard what they’re doing, and no matter what you do, don’t make things convenient for them by merging into traffic at the rate of speed the traffic is flowing, changing lanes to let other drivers in, indicating that you’re going to be turning before you actually do so, or paying attention to the traffic lights and reacting accordingly. Don’t drive defensively — drive offensively! That way, all of us masochists will be mad as hornets, which will make us happy as clams.
Can I say, take your tongue out of your cheek or are you serious?🤔🥴🤭
Clay,
I recognize all of them.
Dad